Familiar Strangers
by Owlooligan
Summary: There was no time to think, no time for sadness. He had to be prepared for anything. He could well be materializing in a battlefield. In a flash of blinding light, Harry Potter disappeared from his world forever.
1. Prologue

Familiar Strangers

* * *

Prologue

Harry sipped at his bottle of Odgen's Finest, staring into the dying flames. His final fight with Voldemort had been tiring, but no one had thought it would have more consequences than a severe case of magical exhaustion.

Hermione had found out that his magical core had been strained to the point that a bit of it had strayed into some type of rip in the fabric of the very universe itself, straining for more ambient magic to help it's owner. That in itself wouldn't have been very worrying, as normally, the magic would have just been called back when the wizard recovered. But when had anything concerning Harry turn out to be normal? Harry snorted as he remembered the look on Hermione's face as she revealed his problem to him.

"_You see Harry," Hermione shifted nervously under Harry's piercing gaze. "Powerful wizards who are very in touch with their core allow a part of their personality and sentiments to seep into their very magics. So when that part of your core latched onto the alternate universe, it found there what you had been longing for – a family perhaps, or the fact that the prophecy hadn't been placed on your shoulders – and… well, to put it frankly, because it contains your personality, it doesn't want to leave."_

_Harry blinked, realization dawning upon him._

"_And because a wizard can't survive for very long without a complete core…"_

"_That piece will be slowly dragging you towards that universe." Hermione completed. _

"_Which in effect would mean in who knows how bloody long, I'll leave, against my will, and never get to see you guys again." Harry had summarized bitterly._

It was, Harry mused, in a way very much like dying - the next great adventure, and all that.

While, in this other world, he would probably get to see Sirius, and possibly his parents, there was no telling if Voldemort was still alive there, and how bad the war was going for them. Hermione had even drawn up several scary scenarios where he had gone Dark, to prepare him for his coming journey.

A journey that was drifting closer every second the clock ticked away. His eyes fell on the hourglass he kept on his desk. It was nothing more than an amusing trifle he'd bought to entertain Teddy, but now, seeing the sand slowly trickle to the bottom, he was reminded of all he'd be leaving behind.

Ginny, at least, did not have to live to see his life come to this – always waiting, waiting for the moment he would be uprooted and flung to another universe entirely. The firelight glinted a shining, coppery red on the glass of the sand-timer, the exact same hue of Ginny's hair under the sunlight, sitting by the Hogwarts lake, what seemed like lifetimes ago.

Harry downed his firewhisky, just for something to occupy his mind other than Ginny, and to stave off his rather impromptu and utterly unwanted trip down memory lane. As he stared broodingly into the fire, he didn't notice the golden mist seeping out of him, leaking from his chest, until it was almost too late. He had just enough time to quickly summon the trunk he had prepared, in which were all of the contents in the Potter and Black vaults, his Firebolt, photo album, and other meaningful paraphernalia of his life.

He strapped on an array of daggers with practiced movements, and snapped his wand into its holster. There was no time to think, no time for sadness. He had to be prepared for anything. He could well be materializing in a battlefield.

In a flash of blinding golden light, Harry Potter disappeared from his world. All he left behind was a letter, which he had written long ago.

_To the wizarding world:_

_I have been your savior, your hero, and sometimes, your scapegoat. I have long forgiven you for abandoning me, slandering me, in my time of need, having long since realized that it was a action made not in spite, but in fear, which can cloud even the brightest of minds. The world is peaceful now, the government less corrupt, and more efficient. I feel useless, sometimes, sitting here in my mansion. When I am idle, the memories sometime overtake me, and a few times I have almost drowned in my despair. _

_Is it selfish, I wonder, to sometimes be happy, happy that I might be sent to a world where there is still work to be done, so that I might escape this feeling of helplessness? Perhaps, perhaps. But I'd like to think I've earned my self a right to be selfish for once, haven't I?_

_Forgive me, old friends, for what you may see as abandonment. But so as long as the bright changes that I have been privileged to bring upon this wonderful world is upheld, and, of course, the things I've fought for maintained, I shall never truly be gone._

_Yours graciously,_

_Harry Potter_


	2. Mayhem in the Order

Chapter one: Mayhem in the Order

It was just another lunch in Grimmauld place, with the Order bustling in and out, on the outside. However, if you were observant, you would notice that all of the core members' eyes were focused on Dumbledore, whose blue eyes, while serene as usual, noticeably lacked their usual twinkle.

"Albus, what exactly is bothering you?" Minerva McGonagall finally plucked up enough of her Gryffindor courage to ask tentatively. It was summer, and Voldemort had been lying low. The horrors of the war had aged them all, especially evident in the face of the children. They didn't want to hear that something had gone wrong, again.

"The wards," Dumbledore murmured. "They've been acting odd all day. Almost thrumming with … anticipation, I suppose you could say."

Sirius Black nodded his head.

"I've been feeling that too. But if this bloody house isn't actually rejecting whatever it's looking forward too, it can't be good for us."

Lily Potter's green eyes, now dulled, crinkled in worry as she leaned further into the arms of her husband, the celebrated Auror James Potter. Lily Potter, who had never been the same when her son had taken a Killing curse for her when he had somehow sensed his mother's immient death. Lily Potter, who had, against her better judgment, now had another girl, who, with bright red hair and vibrant green eyes, was a carbon copy of her mother at the age of fifteen.

"But Diana," she murmured, a bit of hysteria touching her voice. She was so frail these days, James mourned, as he hugged her tighter. Today, especially, she had been prone to breaking down in tears – it was the day when Harry would have turned twenty one, and taken up the mantle of the Potter Primus Heir.

"She'll be alright," he promised. "I won't – I won't allow anything to happen to you or her."

Lily sighed as the girl in question ran in, her face flushed.

"Mum! Fred and George – they've gone and charmed my room hot pink _again_!"

Mrs. Weasley, who had been watching the Potter's exchange in silence with the other Order members bustled up.

"Honestly, I'll never know where I went wrong with those two," the Weasley matriarch muttered as she followed Diana upstairs.

Sirius's and Dumbledore's frowns only deepened through the day, and by dinner time, most of the adults could feel the sentiment magic in the house that was practically vibrating with anticipation.

"I have no idea what the fuck is wrong with this house," Sirius complained hotly to James and Lily over his butterbeer. "It's actually trying to reject my heir's bond."

"But that's impossible," Hermione had overheard the dog animagus. "That could only happen if another direct heir was alive."

"Exactly," Sirius snarled. Hermione flinched back a bit. "Unless Regulus came back from the dead, this shouldn't be happening."

Lily's face was drawn even tighter in anxiety as she listened to Sirius, and James shook his head at his tactlessness.

"I believe," Dumbledore sighed, and the noise quieted, "That we will need to have a meeting tonight."

Diana knew by now what this meant, and slunked away from the room sulkily, dragging Ginny with her (The elder girl was too frail from her experience with Tom Riddle's diary to fight in the war, much to Molly's relief). Lily's eyes tracked the two girls until they disappeared up the hall, and then flicked her wand at the dinning room door, causing it to snap shut. A variety of privacy spells followed.

Her work done, Lily closed her eyes, appearing oblivious to the meeting that was getting started around her.

"I think we should temporarily evacuate until it is clear what we're dealing with, here," Moody growled, his electric blue eye rotating whizzing around.

"I second that motion," James agreed. Sirius frowned, but nodded as well. Just as Dumbledore opened his mouth to give his own opinion, the wards' humming reached a peak, and a golden ball of light materialized right above the long wooden table. The Order sprung back simualtaneously, wands appearing from holsters, under cloaks, and, in the case of Hermione, from behind her ear, a habit she had picked up from Luna Lovegood.

All wands were trained steadily on the fast fading ball of light, tension vibrating through the air. The glow completely faded to reveal a stoic young man with raven hair that was brushed back in a ponytail, and brilliant green eyes, a wand in one hand and a deadly looking dagger in the other.

"Who are you?" Dumbledore demanded, and the young man's eyes focused on him, widening slightly, then moved on to each of the other people in the room, pausing on the Potters pale faces, Sirius, and Remus, who looked more washed out than usual.

"Oh, shit," he cursed, stowing away his wand and dagger slowly, to show he meant no harm. "Of all the places I had to land in, I had to land in the middle of an Order meeting."

The Order stirred nervously. How had this boy recognized them?

"You still haven't answered my question," Dumbledore's spindly wand was still trained on the young man as he jumped down from the table gracefully, moving so his back was against the wall. Dumbledore's power washed over everyone, his cold anger obvious. The effect it had on the stranger though, was completely unexpected.

The young man collapsed onto his knees, clutching his head painfully, and swearing.

"Merlin!" he yelled. "Don't do that! My magic is still unstable!"

Dumbledore drew back his power slightly, and the black-haired youth lowered his hands to support himself, head bent, his body still trembling slightly in pain.

"Who are you?" Dumbledore asked again.

"Withdraw your power completely so I can actually think straight Albus, and then I might answer your question! Goodness, has your age finally meddled with your mind?"

Moody growled warningly, and Harry snarled back, eyes flashing dangerously. Sirius got a feeling of foreboding as he caught the Killing curse eyes. Suddenly, the stranger seemed weary, raking a slender hand through his messy locks. He stood up slowly, hands up, in the universal sign of 'look, I'm not carrying a big, lethal weapon'.

"I have no problem with proving my identity as someone trustworthy," He said slowly, eyes locked on Dumbledore's. "But it is rather unbelievable. I'd like to wait until I can safely take Veritserum before I tell you."

"How do you trust us so?" Dumbledore asked softly, finally stowing away his wand; something in the young man's eyes had convinced him of his honesty.

The strange boy didn't answer.

"What's your name?" Ron asked rudely, hostility clear in his blue eyes.

"Harry." Was all the stranger said.

"Got a surname to go with that?" Moody growled. His was the only wand that was still out.

"Not that I'm up to sharing just now," Harry replied. Just then the door swung open.

"Sorry I'm late," A small, pudgy man panted. He plopped down in the empty seat next to Sirius. "What'd I miss?"

A growl ripped itself from Harry's throat as he saw the man. Before anyone could comprehend what he was doing, his wand was out and pointing at Pettigrew.

"Lift your left sleeve up. Now." He demanded, his voice dangerously quiet.

Sirius, Remus, and James protested hotly, their wands trained on Harry in a flash. He didn't even spare the three angry friends a glance.

"What? Having trouble?" Harry mocked Pettigrew, whose eyes were darting around the room nervously, a sheen of sweat on his face.

"Why don't I do it for you?"

As he spoke, Harry slashed his wand down; Pettigrew's left robe sleeve was cut off, baring the black Dark Mark branded upon his arm for all to see.

"Peter?" Sirius whispered in horror as his eyes fixed onto the mark.

"_Animagus Containous!"_

Harry was just in time – black robes bound Pettigrew in a flash, catching the man in the middle of his transformation. He sighed in impatience as he saw the Order was still gaping at the now half man, half rat, tied up on the floor.

"Well? Don't you guys have a holding cell of some sort to transport him to?" He asked.

"It appears," Dumbledore said mildly, "That we have found our mole." His eyes flickered to the dumbstruck faces of the Marauders.

"How… pitiful." A voice from the shadows drawled, dark eyes also fixed on Pettigrew, who was now being levitated away by Kingsley.

Harry spun towards Severus Snape. To the shock of everyone, especially the man himself, Harry immediately bowed low in respect.

"Lord Prince,"

A slight widening of eyes showed his surprise at being addressed by his mother's maiden name. Snape slowly bowed back.

"You know him?" James asked, distaste in his voice.

"In a way," Harry agreed vaguely. He blocked a yawn with his hand.

"Now, I know you don't trust me yet, and probably won't for a long time, but would you be as so kind to offer me a place to sleep?"

"Unarm yourself first," Moody growled, his blue eye whizzing around Harry's body, no doubt counting the shear number of lethal weapons that were currently strapped on to him. Harry nodded amiably, much to the Order's collective surprise.

"So as long as you give me your oath that the moment I prove my loyalty, they will be returned immediately, untouched."

"Fine," Moody swore the oath. Harry slowly laid his collection of silver knives down on the table. He also put down a collection of poisons, five throwing stars, his earring –

"It explodes on command." He explained to the confused looks.

- his sword, and his wand.

The last item he put down made everyone's jaw drop, again. It was pale white, glittering dangerously, the hilt inlaid with a delicate pattern of runes. It was a basilisk fang made into a dagger.

"Where did you get that?" Snape whispered, cautiously touching the hilt of the dagger.

Harry ignored this question as well.

"Satisfied?" He glanced at Moody, yawning again, exposing abnormally sharp inscisors.

"Your teeth!" Sirius exclaimed. Harry sighed again.

"It's a feature I like to retain from my animagus form," He said shortly.

"What is your form?" James asked curiously.

Harry dragged his eyes from his father, ignoring his question as well. He couldn't very well tell them that he had more than one form, could he?

"Now, could I please sleep? My magic is worn out."

Looking at Harry, Lily felt a strange, maternal feeling rise up in her. The poor boy looked, despite all his smoothness and deadly grace, dead on his feet.

"Come on," She said gently. "Follow me."

Harry gave her a strange, pensive look, but nodded. The two disappeared up the stairs, leaving behind them complete chaos.

"Albus, what do you – "

" – can't trust him!"

"- a basilisk fang for Merlin's sake - !"

The Order broke out into shouts, pointing and yelling. Snape went back to his shadowed corner, contemplating the strange boy – Harry – whose arrival had thrown everything out of balance.

He knew purebloods customs, as shown from his bow, but did not posses the haughty, arrogant air that purebloods seemed to inherit.

He seemed to be in his mid twenties, young, but with power that only came with age and experience.

He was war-hardened, with guarded green eyes wise beyond his years, but he also had laugh lines, and had trusted them much too easily.

It was a circle of paradoxes, Snape noted. How… curious.

Dumbledore was turning Harry's wand over and over, an astonished expression on his face. Ollivander had said that no one had claimed Voldemort's brother wand, and yet – it lay in his hand, looking as if it had been through a war, worn, but well taken care of. A suspicion was sparked in his mind, and blue eyes twinkled happily. If he was right in his assumption… he was sure that the war was about to get that much more interesting.


End file.
